Lightning
by One Shiny Mess
Summary: Face has a past, and uses it to the team's advantage. He probably should have cleared that with Hannibal, first.


Title: Lightning

Author: Shiny Mess

Characters/Pairing: focus on Face, Face/Hannibal pre-slash, supporting character Murdock and BA!

Note: written for a prompt at a_team_kink over on LJ. The requester was kind about the lack of smexing. Also, still uncertain on the title. Any recommendations are welcome.

Summary: Face has a past, and uses it to the team's advantage. He probably should have cleared that with Hannibal, first.

Warning: movie-verse, includes some elements from the show. (Face being abandoned to an orphanage fits well with being a baby!prostitute.) Also probably poorly attempted man-talk, where they try to talk around the things they need to talk about. SORRY. I HAVE A UTERUS IDK THE LINGO.

The six month anniversary hit with no word from Hannibal, but Face wasn't actually surprised after the number of plans he's been pulled into last minute. He wasn't expecting to be kidnapped in the tanning booth, but Hannibal always had his own style.

"You are very tan."

After they destroyed the shipyard and cleared their names for the theft of the plates, but add another charge of escaping lawful federal custody, Murdock looked over at Face. "Hey man, how'd you get me to Germany anyhow? I figured they'd have me locked up in that unfortunate house of ill repute I started in till boss-man broke us out."

Face shrugged. "Dr. Mackie owed me a favor, I just had to get some records dummied up pretty specifically. I know a guy, so...no big deal. They treated you right?" He wouldn't let shock therapy and trial drug regimens ruin what he and the others had spent eight years putting back together.

Murdock nodded brightly. "Was a real nice place you got me to, Facey," he said.

Face smiled. "Glad to hear it." He tilted his head back into the wall of the van. They were waiting another ten minutes and then they'd be in the heart of the city, with enough people to disappear into.

Face opened his eyes when BA grunted. "I got transferred to C block pretty quick," he said, glancing at Face curiously.

Face nodded, holding up a hand. "Guilty," he said with a grin. "Easier block to keep your head down in, didn't want you getting killed before we could break out."

BA nodded slowly. "And Chapel detail?"

Face shrugged. "Keeping you out of trouble, man: didn't realize it'd kick off a spiritual crisis."

BA snorted. "Well, it worked for what it was, brother: thanks."

Face shrugged. "Easy, man: you'd've done the same for me if you had the resources."

"Speaking of resources, I know you're the one who got me the images of Pike and Morrison," Hannibal said. "Nice work, Face."

Face felt that warming all the way down. Hannibal thought well of him - usually - but it wasn't often he made him proud enough to say anything like that, not as part of the team but for his own efforts. He swallowed the genuine emotion and half-bowed to Hannibal. "Of course, Boss," he said, with a flirtations glance up through his eyelashes. The smirk probably ruined it.

Face leaned back, and carefully stored this memory, burning it into his mind in loving detail. His first plan, successful despite the addition of a rocket-wielding maniac. His smile softened. They were finished the job - just the escape left, and then he could get some rest. He hadn't had much peace in the last six months, the closest thing to it was bunking down on the ship with the others and he couldn't sleep deeply while on a job.

"Pictures?" Murdock asked, then whistled. "You had enough time alone to get me and BA transferred and set up an information web for boss-man? Your warden must've believed us, huh?"

_Well. _"Something like that," Face said with an easy smile, keeping his body relaxed but ready to respond in case of a surprise. He thought about the good warden, and smiled sardonically. _More like he understood the value of a good blow job, and thank God for that,_ he thought. _Could have been worse._

It had been worse, once upon a time.

The van turning brought Face's focus outward again, and they were minutes away from their most recent great escape, which was inspired more by Houdini than Rasputin. "Counting down," he said, eyes flicking over BA, Murdock - both ready, both still riding the high from their new knowledge they were getting out. _Again._

He glanced at Hannibal and had to shut down an instinctive flinch from the thoughtful look on his CO's face. They held the look for a moment before Hannibal nodded slightly, and let the question they both knew he was asking go - for now.

It was more like acknowledging a challenge than acquiescence to Face's cool-eyed stare or rattlesnake smile. They had to focus if they're going to do this right. Timing was as important now as it ever was - too early and they'd be seen by the tail, too late and the door closing would be heard.

Thank God the idiots actually were stupid enough to take the primary route Face had predicted. He could almost understand the logic: they expected the team to be surprised, and wanted to get them back into custody as soon as they could: if taking a route that ultimately ran through a tunnel under a busy train track shaved ten minutes off their time driving, it was less time to plan their next escape.

Unfortunately for them, Face had seen this one coming, and already had the plan in place.

His only regret was not being able to see their faces when they opened the truck. _Fool me once, motherfuckers,_ he thought viciously, hours later imagining how this must look for them. The beauty was, Charissa would get to keep her promotion, since she'd handled her end of the transaction successfully and was assigned clean up duty away from their transport.

They faded into the crowd, and then to the underground, and then they just had to deal with the return back to LA. They decided on a plane over a boat: the boats might get them home under the radar but if they thought to search for stowaways, there was no where to go. The plane ran the risk of being hailed, but they had a better chance of getting home before the airways were stopped, especially if they didn't take a direct route.

So they snuck onto a few short-haul cargo planes and ultimately started their return trip from Majorca, playing tourist on the way home from - separate - vacations.

"Nice plan, Face!" Murdock said lowly where he'd finagled the seat beside Face.

Face glanced around but nobody was looking their way. Hannibal was speaking softly to BA a few rows up, he could see but not hear. He shrugged, mock-humble, and nodded up at Hannibal. "I learned from the best," he said.

"What about the rocket launcher and the explosions?" Murdock asked, leaning forward curiously.

Face shrugged. "_Zabul_."

Murdock blinked a moment, then started laughing as he remembered that particular plan of Hannibal's. "Got a point, brother," he said, still snickering. "Except, how come I couldn't I fly us back?"

Face nodded mildly and glanced over at BA and Hannibal, who'd pulled back a little while ago to talk privately about BA's religious crisis, Face figured. He wondered if they'd have to trick BA to take the sleeping pills this time, or if he'd take them without complaint since Murdock wasn't flying.

He glanced back at Murdock and shrugged. "Less conspicuous," he said apologetically. "You'll get us out next time, I promise."

Murdock looked at him suspiciously, then held up one hand, pinky extended. Face laughed, but obligingly locked pinkies with him. "Pinky-swear."

Murdock nodded happily, and the engines started. They'd be flying through to Madrid, would have a layover of a few hours, and then make a straight shot - seven hours to Pennsylvania, and from there they'd go to ground again.

He knew the plan was going smoothly, but he was still tense. He glanced around the plane as the steward informed them of proper safety precautions, but the flight was half-empty, and nobody was looking at them.

He relaxed into the seat as best as he could and kept one eye open on Murdock.

He fell into a half-slumber for the short flight, and they all hurried to make their next flight. He watched two movies and slept the next seven hours they were in the air, but underneath the stale boredom, he felt the roll of distant thunder approaching.

They hit Pennsylvania in their tourist modes, and the fake passports Face scammed before they left to get Murdock held up at Customs. They boosted a jeep in the parking garage and made their way out of the airport to a less monitored freedom.

They take turns driving: rather, Face, BA and Hannibal take turns driving, and Murdock alternately whines for his turn and holds up a running - nonlinear - conversation with someone named Billy.

From what Face had picked up, he wasn't sure if this Billy was supposed to be human. If he was, Murdock was way kinkier than he'd ever let on.

They drove from Harrisburg through Pennsylvania, tacking on over an hour to stay off the highway as long as they can. They lost the jeep about three hours in and picked up a van, and didn't have any trouble.

They switched cars again in Ohio, and then finally found a state park with an empty camp site reasonably away from the main road.

Then they all crashed.

When Face wakes up, it's like swimming into humid air. Sleep lingered in his eyes and on his - rather disgusting tasking - tongue. He blinked slowly, trying to decide if he's up or if he could scam another hour or so.

A whisper of sound and the smell of cigar smoke from his left turned his head. Hannibal was up already. When Face moved, his eyes moved from the van wall to meet Face's. They stared at each other for a minute, and Face realized he was Dorothy Gail holding onto the cellar door.

Hannibal tilted his head at the door and Face nodded and sighed wordlessly. The door opened quietly and Face glanced back in at BA and Murdock and debated closing it and risking them waking up when it clicked. He pushed it to the seal and left it open. Face wasn't sure what time it was, but the air was still and the light was the hazy half-light of a murky dawn or twilight. He looked to Hannibal.

He stood in the hazy light, more solid a presence than the tree he was in front of. Smoke drifted up around him in ribbons from his cigar, but he wasn't taking any pulls. His head was tilted up slightly, eyes distant on the gray sky.

Face forced himself the few steps closer and then leaned back against the tree behind him and waited.

"You got Santana in contact with our other allies," Hannibal said after a moment.

Face couldn't understand how he figured things out with only the barest pieces of information, but he doubted this would be the last time he had to observe the phenomenon. "He's not bad with computers," he said. "I actually got a hacker I know to play Deep Throat - get him looking in the right direction, that kind of thing."

Hannibal nodded. He finally took a pull on his smoldering cigar. He held it a moment, then exhaled with clear relish. "You got Murdock to Germany."

Face shrugged. "Better facilities, and I know the guy in charge. He's a good man."

Hannibal glanced over with a slight smile that faded again. Now that he'd met Face's own curious stare, Face found he couldn't look away. "And BA?"

Face shrugged and leaned more of his weight into the tree. "Way the trial went down, he was pissed - couldn't risk him being killed because of his temper."

Hannibal nodded, and tapped his cigar free of ash but didn't look away from Face. That hypnotic stare. "And your warden only "something like" believed in us," he said, and left the end open.

Face sighed. "Warden Michaels doesn't care about the truth, just what he wants and how he can get it," he explained. "I...facilitated...several of his less objectionable requests, and he left me run my networks."

"Mm." Hannibal nodded shallowly, and chewed on the end of his cigar a moment. "The thing is, why wouldn't you have said something like that in the car? Bragged about it?"

Face couldn't respond, and still couldn't break that hypnotizing stare. Shame he hadn't felt at any point over his actions in the last six months rose up in him, and he had to force it down.

Hannibal saw it, of course, and frowned. Face finally looked away before Hannibal could look any more disappointed.

They stood like that for a few minutes, quiet: Face had his head down and his eyes closed, shame for his own actions fighting anger at Hannibal for making him feel it until a huge hand landed on his shoulder unexpectedly, making him jerk his head up to meet Hannibal's eyes. He'd lost the cigar and was staring at Face tiredly.

Face swallowed, anger dying a quick death in the face of Hannibal's exhaustion. "It's not a big deal," Face said. "He didn't want much - not like none of you have ever wanted a guaranteed way to shut me up."

"Ah, kid." Hannibal scrubbed the hand not holding Face's shoulder over his own face and up through his hair, pulling it up in furrows.

Face shook his head. "It was worth it," he said, staring blankly at Hannibal's throat. There were tiny scabs mixed with flecks of dried blood they'd missed in the clean up, dotting along the side of his neck fading into his hairline.

"Damn it, Face," Hannibal muttered.

Face stood as much at attention as he could. "Colonel," he said, voice bland. Then he blinked as he was pulled forward, out of attention. "Hannibal?"

Hannibal shook his head, arms wrapped tight around Face for a few seconds.

Face nodded. "OK. We're hugging." He mouthed it again, 'hugging,' and pretended like neither of them had noticed how he was leaning into Hannibal.

Hannibal stepped back. "Lieutenant," he said sharply, his own posture stiffening.

Face snapped back to attention - less stiff than he'd been. "Sir!"

"You will not, I repeat, you will not EVER make that decision again, am I understood?"

Face's mouth tightened. "Sir! I understand you, sir! I do not agree, sir!"

Hannibal moved forward again, except he actually was angry - and Face could feel it coming off him in waves. "Lieutenant! My orders are clear! You are a soldier, not a whore!"

Face kept staring straight ahead. "I am whatever this unit needs me to be, colonel!"

"This unit OWNS YOU!" Hannibal said fiercely. "You belong to me, and I am telling you - while I am your commanding officer, you WILL NOT use your body to pay for our comfort." He grabbed the back of Face's neck and squeezed. _"Do you understand me, lieutenant?"_

"Come on, Hannibal: we both know it isn't the first time," Face said.

Hannibal held his stare unbending. Staring at him, blue eyes bright and hard like the Arizona sky in August, Face didn't think about saying they weren't even in the army, anymore, that Hannibal didn't have any say over what he did, that he was a grown damn man and he could do with his body as he damn well pleased. Those were all things he thought of later. No, with Hannibal right in his face, held between him and the tree, Face swallowed tremors - not fear, relief, _never again_ - and his head sank forward in half a nod. "Yes, sir."

The pressure of Hannibal's anger eased almost immediately, but though his grip on the back of Face's neck loosened a little, it still remained firm. Face was actually grateful for it.

"You never have to sell what you aren't willing to give, Face," Hannibal said roughly.

Face nodded a little, then looked back up to meet Hannibal's eyes. A question burned the back of his mind. It wasn't something he could ask, but he needed to know.

Hannibal squeezed his neck once. Then he released it, stepped away and returned to attention. Face immediately snapped back to attention in response. "I do not want to have this conversation again, soldier," Hannibal said evenly. "I'll take input for a plan, but I give an order and I expect it to be followed! Especially by my second in command."

Face swallowed, eyes wide. "Colonel?"

Hannibal's looked at him evenly. "Did I stutter, kid?"

Face blinked. _XO?_ They'd never really had a formal structure in their little unit. Hannibal went to him about as often as he went to BA. This - this was a gift. This was Hannibal telling him this didn't change him in his eyes. "No, sir," he said softly. "Thank you, sir."

Hannibal nodded, and his hand slid from Face's neck. Face turned his head as it withdrew past his face and his mouth touched the pad of his thumb. It could have been an accident. Hannibal looked at him thoughtfully, his mouth opened like he'd say something-then BA fell out of the van with Murdock tumbling right after him.

He and Hannibal stared at them a minute and Face slowly flushed a deep red. "Hannibal?"

Hannibal was pulling out another cigar from his side pocket. "Hm?"

"They heard the whole thing, didn't they?" He asked, flinching slightly as Murdock (maybe) accidentally elbowed BA in the ribs.

Hannibal glanced at him and then BA and Murdock scuffling in the dirt. "Oh, I'd wager good money on it."

Face nodded. "That's about right," he muttered. "They're going to be supportive, aren't they?"

Hannibal snorted, smiling slightly. "Seems likely," he said, lighting his cigar.

"God help me," Face said. "When's the next mission?"

Hannibal barked out a laugh and clapped his shoulder. "Man up, lieutenant."


End file.
